


Slip Ups

by ashtraythief



Series: Underneath 'verse [34]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternative Universe - FBI, Crimes & Criminals, Discussions of violence, Don't copy to another site, M/M, POV Outsider, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: Five times Jensen acts like a cop and one time he doesn’t.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: Underneath 'verse [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/161699
Comments: 303
Kudos: 535





	1. Gun Range

**Author's Note:**

> For the underneath prompt meme. soundslikewanheda on tumblr said: I'd love to see Jensen slipping up about something and how Jared reacts to it now!
> 
> I decided to turn this into one of these five times stories, so it’s not only Jared who gets to see and react to Jensen slipping up. So more will come. Set during different times of the underneath verse.
> 
> Many, many thanks to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for their endlessly patient beta work and to keep_waking_up for brainstorming!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad and Mike take Jensen shooting. Mike POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between Underneath It All and Drunken Nights and Their Consequences.  
> I've done my best with the research here, but in the end, it's all make belief and I take artistic liberties whenever I can't find good information.

Mike had been running a gym in one of Chicago’s crappiest neighborhoods for years. He kept it cheap to give kids a chance to work off their anger and train them to help them out of a tight spot. It didn’t make a lot of revenue, but it was a good place to launder money.

Too many crooks had started showing up wanting to work out, and Mike actually wanted to keep the kids away from that life. So he bought another property, a little outside of the city center, and gave everyone with a rap sheet that address. Criminals from all walks of life came to Rosey’s to work out. He had a strict no-weapons policy, everything had to be stored in the lockers outside. He employed a couple of guys for security who were armed, but he’d never needed it. His name was enough to keep the peace. Gangbangers and bikers were working out side by side. Some of them hoping for a spot in Jared’s crew, trying to use their workout as an audition. Mike didn’t recruit guys a lot, just enough to keep the stories going and have hopeful guys come in. And everyone knew that he had a two strikes policy. You got a free pass for one screw up, but after the second one, you were out. Rosey's gym was a neutral zone. He’d called his gym Switzerland so that there would be no misunderstandings. So far, it had worked.

The giant climbing wall he’d installed had been more of a joke after a bunch of Chicago cops had shown up to flex their muscles and tell Mike they were watching him, accusing him of not running a legit operation.

But the climbing was actually fairly popular, and when Jensen came in, his eyes lit up.

“That’s not what we’re here for,” Chad said. “Learning to shoot is serious business, Jensen.”

Jensen gave Chad one of his truly spectacular scathing eyebrow raises. “I’ve told you a million times, I know how to shoot a gun. Just because I don’t wave one around all the time, doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself.”

Chad was entirely unperturbed. “Dude, I’m not saying you can’t shoot. But you haven’t gone practicing with us once since you came to Chicago, and Jared wants you sharp.”

Wants to know what you can do, Chad didn’t say, but Mike knew it was one of the things Jared wanted to figure out. Preferably without offending Jensen.

Chad shot Jensen a meaningful look. “And when Jared gets like that, I don’t disagree with him.”

Jensen looked at him, with that scary calculating look. “Fine. I shoot guns with you, and you climb that wall with me.”

Chad grinned. “Deal.”

Well. That would be fun.

“Rosey!” Chad smiled when he saw Mike. “Jensen and I are gonna shoot some guns.”

Mike walked them downstairs personally. He was very selective about who got access to the gun range, but today it was completely empty because he’d known Chad and Jensen were coming. After the latest shoot out close to the Nine, Jared had insisted that Jensen get some training, no matter how well they’d look after him and how much he insisted he could take care of himself.

Mike could relate. He still remembered when Jensen had been abducted by his old crew runner and that definitely could not happen again. Jared would go berserk. And Mike had grown fond of Jensen too.

Downstairs, Mike led them back to the last lane behind an extra door with a keypad lock. Aldis had done all the security and it would be impossible for anyone to get in here who wasn’t part of the inner circle.

Chad got the guns out of the cabinet; a shotgun, a nine-millimeter Glock, a small twenty-two, and an old fashioned revolver. He also reached for a mac-10 and a forty-five Colt.

“Rule number one of gun safety,” Chad said seriously. “Never point a loaded gun at someone you don’t intend to shoot. I know we joke around a lot, but not about this. Got it?”

Jensen gave Chad one of his famous withering looks. Lesser men would crumble under the cold glare. Chad just continued, unperturbed.

“Second, never rely on the safety. Seriously. It’s rare, but they do fail. So back to rule one, no pointing guns at anything you don’t intend to shoot.”

Jensen let out a huff. “You do remember that I’ve shot a fucking gun before, right?”

Chad held up a hand placating. “I know. I know. But it’s still important to cover the basics. Now, rule number three, always—”

Jensen stepped past Chad to the table and picked up the nine-millimeter Glock. Pointing the muzzle down, he released the magazine, put it on the table, then opened the slide and checked for a bullet in the chamber. Then he swiftly removed the slide and the barrel, put all parts on the table. He shot Chad a look.

“What the—” Chad started, but Jensen was already reassembling the gun.

The whole process didn’t take more than five seconds.

“Well, I guess we should believe Jensen when he says he can handle guns,” Mike said, kind of impressed.

Chad snapped his mouth shut and nodded. “Okay, wonderboy, how about we see if you can back this up?”

Jensen rolled his eyes, but it was mostly fond. He put on ear protecion and glasses, then approached the shooting stand. He raised the Glock, holding the gun correctly and not like most action stars on TV. His legs were apart a stable distance, non-dominant leg slightly forward. The standard stance taught to law enforcement. Jensen aimed, shot. Hit. He fired again and again, hitting the second ring around the bullseye. He shifted, adjusted, fired the remaining bullets in quick succession, shredding the inner circle of the target.

Mike looked over to Chad who was squinting at Jensen’s back.

Jensen turned around with a smug smile but froze when he saw them. “What?”

“Who taught you how to shoot like that?” Mike asked.

Jensen shrugged. “Practice.”

“Kinda curious that’s the gun you picked. And took it apart like that.” Chad nodded at the Glock in Jensen’s hands.

Mike knew why Chad was getting suspicious. The Glock was the most common gun used by law enforcement.

Jensen stiffened, then looked at the gun. “It’s the gun I learned on.” He was trying to stay calm, but he wasn’t entirely successful.

Mike uncrossed his arms, flexed his hands. Kept watching Jensen. Kept watching his hands still holding the gun. Chad stepped to the table, picked up the Colt and started loading it.

It had been almost a year. Chad had been suspicious in the beginning, they all had been, but not for a long time. Mike didn’t think Jensen could have been lying for so long, but Chad had a sixth sense about these things. So if Chad was worried, Mike was worried.

Jensen looked up, eyes flitting back and forth between them. “What? What’s going on?” He still had the gun and the Glock had a fifteen round magazine. Jensen had fired eleven bullets.

Slowly, methodically, Chad finished loading the Colt. “You learned on that gun,” he said softly. “Who taught you?”

“Some guy,” Jensen said curtly.

Chad cocked his head. “Some guy? A boyfriend?”

“No.” Jensen almost looked disgusted at that.

“Then why so hedgy?”

“Because I don’t understand why you’re being so weird.” Jensen raised his hands, realized he was still holding the gun, and put it down on the table. “You’re starting to freak me out here.”

Chad eyed the gun on the table, relaxed minutely. “You’re a really good shot. And you can handle that gun.” Chad reached over and picked up the Glock. “The nine-millimeter Glock, the favorite gun of America’s law enforcement.”

“Oh my God.” This time, Jensen actually threw up his hands. “You guys are fucking ridiculous.”

Chad just squinted at him.

Jensen looked over at Mike who raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, okay, so a cop taught me how to shoot. Last I checked that’s not a crime.”

“A cop?” Chad asked.

“One of my mom’s boyfriends,” Jensen said, annoyed. “He picked her up for shoplifting and then took pity on her. It was one of the few times when she cleaned up her act and he was a decent guy actually. We were living in a dangerous part of town and, well, I was a pretty boy. I think he wanted to toughen me up, make a real man out of me.” Jensen snorted. “He meant well. So he taught me how to throw a punch and how to shoot a gun.”

“He must’ve stuck around for a while,” Chad said.

“Little over half a year,” Jensen said. “Took me shooting every weekend. Every Saturday morning to be precise.” Jensen pulled a grimace at the memory. “Woke me up at the asscrack of dawn and dragged me out to the shooting range. He used to say, ‘Son, no one ever got anywhere from lying around in bed.’ I couldn’t exactly tell him that I’d definitely gotten somewhere the night before.”

“Son, huh?” Mike said.

Startled, Jensen looked up. He raised his shoulders. “Yeah, well. He did ask my mom to move in with him, kids included. But she got cold feet and banged his neighbor.” Jensen pursed his lips.

Mike knew the feeling. He’d had a few foster fathers who’d tried to be somewhat of a father figure, but it had never really worked out.

“Are you done now?” Jensen asked, pointedly looking at the gun in Chad’s hand.

Chad just gave him a sheepish smile and held out the gun to Jensen, grip first. “Let’s see what you do with something that has a little more kick.”

Jensen rolled his eyes again but took the gun. “You’re all paranoid fuckers.”

Chad laughed. “It’s how we stay alive.”

Jensen took the forty-five, muttering about paranoid mobsters. Despite concentrating and shooting a little slower, he wasn’t as good with the Colt. Chad got to do some actual teaching before Jensen managed to hit the bullseye a few times in a row.

“Awesome. Now let’s hit some moving targets.”

“What?”

Chad just clapped Jensen on the shoulder with a manic grin. “You’re a natural. This is going to be fun.”

Jensen shot Mike an exasperated look. _Save me_ , he mouthed.

Mike just grinned. “You know what, considering how good Jensen is with a gun, he can spend more time in the ring with me.”

Jensen’s eyes widened in horror and Chad and Mike laughed at him. But Mike wasn’t kidding. They’d teach Jensen how to defend himself whether he wanted to or not. They would do everything in their power to protect him. Jared would tear anyone apart who even tried to touch Jensen, but they couldn’t babysit him twenty-four/seven.

With a sigh, Jensen picked up the rifle. “All right, show me how to hold this thing so I don’t get kicked in the shoulder.”

Chad happily obliged and they spent another hour at the shooting range before Jensen made good on his threat and forced Chad to climb the wall with him. Chad was not doing badly, but he didn’t manage the last bit where he had to climb an almost horizontal stretch of wall. While Jensen was laughing merciless from his perch on top of the boulder Chad dangled upside down from the wall.

It was a good way to spend a Tuesday.


	2. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen disagree on how to punish someone. Jared POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set shortly before Matters of Trust, roughly a year into their relationship.

There were few things Jared hated more than people lying to him. So when Aldis told him that one of their software designers at PadaSystems was using company resources for a scam, Jared was pissed. Pissed enough to call Mike and tell him to pick the guy up and work him over.

Now, he was discussing the situation with Gen and Chad. Gen didn’t usually get involved in anything but the financials, but this guy had used company accounts to launder the money.

“It’s not going to be a problem to undo it,” Gen said, going over the account statements. “But I’m going to have to close these accounts and open new ones to get rid of the history.” She threw the folder on the table and leaned back into the couch. “It’s annoying, but not dangerous.”

“And Mike did say that he was helping his cousin out with the scam because the family has a ton of debts,” Chad said.

Jared unclenched his fist. “Fine.” He knew what Gen and Chad were saying and they were right. “Gen, calculate the score and have him pay us fifty percent.” Usually, Jared’s fee wasn’t so high, but this was an operational fee plus compensation for transgressing. “Mike will take care of our moonlighting scam artist.”

Chad looked at the files Aldis had sent over. “Two strikes?”

Jared nodded.

“You wanna keep him around?” Chad asked.

“He’s one of our better programmers,” Jared said. “I’m going to loan him the money to get the family out of their debt, and he’ll be grateful.”

Slowly, Chad nodded. “It’s the right play. Rosey said the guy would be very susceptible to a mercy punishment.”

“I know.” Jared reached for his whiskey. Just because it was the right play didn’t mean he liked it.

Thankfully, that moment he heard the front door open and Harley and Sadie shot up from their doggie beds to greet Jensen at the door.

Jared could hear Jensen talk to the dogs in the lobby. He loved listening to Jensen talk to Harley and Sadie, his voice soft and warm. Eventually, Jensen walked into the living room.

He was wearing black boots and a new pair of blue jeans so light they were almost white, showing off the perfect curve of his bowlegs. No matter how bad things were going, even after a year of dating, Jensen still provided a welcome distraction. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and triumphantly raised a paper bag from his favorite book store.

“Remember that book series I read as a kid? The one I couldn’t remember the title or the author of, only the cover? I finally found it today.”

Jared put the files down. “That’s great, sweetheart.”

Jensen immediately sobered. He looked from Jared to the files to Gen and Chad sitting around the couch table.

“Is something wrong? You guys look serious.”

“No,” Jared said. “Just a small inconvenience.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing it. “Alright then. I’m gonna leave you guys alone with your small inconvenience.”

And Jared could see it, in the way Jensen pursed his lips and his shoulders tensed: he was pissed at Jared for keeping him out. Jensen always said how boring he found all of Jared’s ‘mob stuff,’ but recently, it had become clear that while he might not be interested to know what was actually going on, he did mind purposefully being kept in the dark. More as a matter of principle probably. Maybe even because he wanted Jared to trust him. The thought made Jared hopeful because he wanted Jensen to trust him. Wanted him to stay, to open up. Jensen talked a lot, but he said little. And Jared wanted to know all of him. Wanted to have all of him. But prying Jensen open was like opening a clam-shell. Too little pressure and you got nowhere. Too much pressure and he lashed out and shut up tighter. But recently, it seemed Jensen wanted to know. To open up. He was just too proud to ask. It was an opportunity. And well. This wasn’t something Jared needed to hide. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure yet that Jensen wouldn’t sell him out when the opportunity was tempting enough, this was nothing Jared’s enemies could use.

“Come sit with us, sweetheart.”

Jensen looked a little surprised but joined Jared on the couch. Chad didn’t manage to hide a smile. Gen wasn’t surprised either. She knew that Jared wanted to move things forward with Jensen, and despite her initial reservations, she’d come around. All of them had, really. Jared wasn’t surprised; Jensen was a force of nature.

“I haven’t seen you all day.” Jared pulled Jensen in for a kiss. He was laying it on thick and Jensen knew it, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t work.

Jensen leaned against Jared, fitting under his outstretched arm like he was made to be there.

“So, why the long faces?”

“A guy who works for PadaSystems has been using company resources to work on a scam.”

“Seriously?”

Jared handed Jensen the file. Jared didn’t like dealing with digital files, so Aldis had printed data sheets, call logs, and server access.

Jensen slowly went through the material.

“He confessed when Mike confronted him,” Jared said. “Said he was using the company’s servers and phone lines to help his cousin with a scam. He was still doing his job, and he didn’t take anything from me, but he did this without my knowledge or permission.”

“Scamming retirees out of their pension? Too bad.” Jensen did not sound regretful at all. “He doesn’t look like he’s gonna enjoy prison.”

“Prison?” Jared asked.

Jensen kept going through the papers. “Well, yeah. This guy deserves some serious jail time.”

Chad snorted. “Who are we, the police?”

Jensen’s head jerked up. “Well, I mean, I know you guys have your whole “sheriff of Chicago” thing going, but it’s not like you have a jail.” He paused. “You don’t, right?”

Chad laughed and Gen rolled her eyes.

“Okay, good. Because that would just be weird.” Jensen pulled a face. “And I’m sorry, but beating this guy up and then letting him go back to work is not enough.” Jensen narrowed his eyes, shot Jared a dark look. “And money scams are bad, but they don’t deserve a bullet to the head.”

Jared knew that Jensen didn’t like the killing—didn’t like the violence much for that matter either, the prissy little art thief—but he was surprised at his lack of imagination.

“There are other ways to punish someone,” Jared said.

“What, break his knees with a baseball bat?” Jensen snorted. “Yeah, that’s not cliche at all.”

Jared shrugged his shoulders. He wanted to share with Jensen, wanted to stop hiding, but he could do without the derision in Jensen’s eyes. He didn’t need Jensen’s approval to know what he was doing was right, was _necessary_ , but he just wanted him to understand that what he did wasn’t just ‘stupid mob stuff.’

“He didn’t steal from me directly,” Jared said matter-of-factly, “But he put his hand where it doesn’t belong. He’s losing fingers.”

Jensen’s eyes widened. “He what?”

“It could be worse,” Chad said casually. “We could be taking the whole hand.”

Jensen looked back and forth between them. “You’re joking, right?”

“He went behind my back,” Jared said.

“I stole from you,” Jensen countered. “And you let me make it up without maiming me.”

“Well, you didn’t steal from your boss, did you?” Jared asked harshly. “Look, Jensen, when he started working for me, he knew the deal. Everybody knows. You work for me, you’re loyal. I will pay you fairly and I’ll take care of you in hard times. But you do not betray me. That means you don’t rat me out, you don’t lie to me, and you don’t steal from me. This guy, he lied to me and he used my company without permission. That’s two strikes.”

Jensen swallowed. “So he’s losing two fingers?”

Jared nodded, watching Jensen’s face carefully.

“It’s effective,” Chad said. “It’s a permanent reminder, for him and everyone else. But it also means that once the punishment is over, it’s forgiven. You pay the price and you can come back to work.” He reached for his beer. “It’s rare that someone doesn’t fall back in line after.”

“So the only reason I’m still in one piece is because I wasn’t working for you?” Jensen asked.

Chad laughed. “As if Jared could have laid a finger on you.”

Jared shot Chad a hard look, but Chad just chuckled into his beer.

Jensen kept looking at Jared, eyebrows raised sharply, demanding an answer.

Jared sighed, reached for Jensen’s hand. “He’s not wrong. But yeah, you didn’t work for me. There was no obligation on my part, I would have killed you if you hadn’t done that job for me.”

For a moment, Jensen stilled. He took these small pauses sometimes before he made a joke to diffuse the tension or put an innuendo in his voice that led to them getting naked. Jared was dying to know what the alternative was and why Jensen was holding back, but it was no use asking. He could just hope that Jensen would open up with time. Then again, Jared didn’t know if he’d enjoy what Jensen would say if he wasn’t holding back anymore.

Now, Jensen tilted his head. He looked serious, but then the corners of his lips pulled up in the slightest hint of a smirk. “Would you have really though? You were kind of hesitating. I remember that very clearly.”

Jared did too. He liked to think that he would have pulled the trigger. That he wouldn’t have been distracted by a pretty face. But it hadn’t been Jensen’s face, not really. It had been his eyes and the absence of fear in them.

He turned Jensen’s hand over, pressed a kiss to his palm, and bit into his wrist. Then he stood and pulled Jensen up. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Jensen now, but he also didn’t want to let him go.

“Jared?” Jensen’s eyes were worried, flitting from Jared’s face to the patio door, around the room to Chad and Gen, and back to Jared. Jensen’s tongue darted out and wet his lips. “Babe?”

“Everybody out,” Jared said, and pulled Jensen in, kissed his shiny lips.

Jensen harrumphed against his mouth, body tense and unyielding, but when Jared wrapped his arms around him, one on his ass, the other one on his back, sliding up to his neck, Jensen sighed into his mouth and practically melted against him.

“Unbelievable,” Chad muttered, loud enough for Jared to hear.

Gen just laughed, her heels clacking on the floor as she left, Chad in tow.

Jared pushed Jensen down into the couch, took in his flushed face, eyes wide and pupils blown, lips plumped and reddened. So maybe he wouldn’t have shot him then. But Jensen didn’t need to know that. He’d probably run away from all the feelings that would imply.

“Not that I don’t enjoy this,” Jensen said and gestured between them, “but what’s going on with you?” His eyes were wary.

Jared realized he was clenching his jaw, so he tried to relax and not look intense. Sometimes he just wanted to hold Jensen tight and never let him go, even though he knew that would make Jensen run faster than he could get down on one knee.

Jensen was still scrutinizing him.

“Just remembering that first time I saw you.”

Jensen’s body tensed. Fuck. Too much. Damage control.

“Remember what you looked like all wet, your clothes basically painted on your body.”

Jensen relaxed back into the pillows in a sinuous stretch that made his shirt ride up. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jared leaned down, nosed at the exposed strip of Jensen’s stomach.

“I look even better naked,” Jensen said and raised his hips. His hard dick brushed against Jared’s chest.

Slowly, Jared reached for Jensen’s belt. “I might need a reminder about that.”

“Bastard.” Jensen slapped his shoulder, but then slid his hand into Jared’s hair, short fingernails pleasantly dragging along Jared’s scalp.

Crisis averted. But when he finally had Jensen naked Jared couldn’t stop himself from thinking, if one day, he’d be able to indulge, get Jensen to open up and love him without worrying that he’d run away from him. Jared knew he’d never be able to put a ring on Jensen, but it would be nice if Jensen would at least stop putting one foot out the door.


	3. Whiteboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared got shot. Jensen doesn’t handle it well. Chad POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during Way Down We Go. This takes place while Jared's unconscious after getting shot.
> 
> Happy New Year! Many thanks to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for betaing over the holidays, you guys are the best <3

“So?”

Jensen had composed himself again. He’d been frantic when Jared got shot, had refused to take his hand off of Jared’s bleeding wound, had screamed when Rosey had physically removed him from the room. Outside, Jensen had forced himself to calm down, to a scary kind of cold fury. He’d insisted on being by Jared’s side until he was safely back in his own bed and Chad hadn’t refused him. Chad and Mike had left during the surgery because they needed to get a headstart on this thing. Everything in Chad had pulled him towards Jared, to be here for his best friend, but he knew there was nothing he could do in there. But out here… someone needed to run the investigation. They needed to figure out who took a shot at him. So Chad and Mike talked to their people and started figuring things out. Sam kept him updated and when she told him Richings was done with the surgery, Mike and Chad stole an ambulance to take Jared back to the mansion. Richings’ office was not secure enough.

“He is going to be unconscious for a while longer,” Richings said. “He lost a lot of blood and he is very weak.” Richings set up a monitor. “I’ll stay here for a while to make sure there are no complications from the procedure.”

“Thanks, doc.” Chad said.

“Can I get you some coffee?” Sam asked. “A snack?”

“Tea would be lovely,” Richings said. “And maybe a sandwich.”

Now Chad, Mike, and Jensen were standing outside of the bedroom on the landing of the second floor.

“Alright, who the fuck shot Jared?” Jensen asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Chad said.

Jensen stared at him. “You what?”

Chad made a face. “Look—”

“It’s been hours.” Jensen looked incredulously between Chad and Mike. “What the fuck have you two been doing?”

“You might not want to raise your voice,” Mike said, “Jared needs rest.”

“Richings gave him enough morphine to keep him knocked out for hours. Because he had to take out a bullet of his chest because he got fucking shot!” Jensen whisper-shouted. “And you tell me you still don’t know? What kind of crap operation are you running here, huh?”

“Now hold on,” Chad started but fell quiet under Jensen’s burning eyes.

“Someone shot Jared! You’re supposed to be the biggest, baddest crew in town and you’re standing here, twiddling your thumbs? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Jensen,” Mike said calmly. “We’re not twiddling our thumbs. But it’s a long list of people.”

Jensen drew in a harsh breath, forcibly calming himself. “Then give me the fucking list.”

“Well, it’s not like we wrote it down,” Mike said.

Jensen stared at them like they’d lost their minds. “Unbelievable. Okay, Mike, you’re with me. We’re gonna make that list. And Chad, you’re gonna call everyone you haven’t called yet and get me some evidence. Now!” Jensen roared when they didn’t move. Then he turned on his heels and jogged down the stairs. “Mike, move your ass!”

Mike shot Chad a wide-eyed look. _What the fuck_ , he mouthed.

Chad just shook his head but got his phone out. He was certainly not going to argue with Jensen right now.

Mike hurried down the stairs after Jensen and Chad started dialing. It wasn’t that he disagreed with Jensen, he just hadn’t expected him to be quite so forceful about taking over. Especially not yelling orders like that.

Fifteen minutes later, Chad didn’t have anything concrete, but he had eliminated a few possibilities. He checked in one more time with Jared—Misha was sitting with him, they’d agreed he should never be alone—then Chad went downstairs to the basement where Jensen had gotten his own room. Apparently, he needed a space to plan his heists.

Jensen’s room was a mess. Chad had never been down here before, but he’d always assumed it would scrupulously clean. Now, things were strewn everywhere. The desk was a mess of notes, there were dirty plates—probably the food Sam had forced Jensen to eat—and a few empty beer bottles. If Chad had needed another hint that Jensen was in a bad place, that would be enough. Jensen didn’t do beer.

Climbing equipment was carelessly flung into a corner, gadgets were littering the shelves and a knife was stuck into the wall. At the center of the room was a whiteboard. Rosey was already there, giving Jensen names and relationships, and Jensen was scribbling on the board, pinning pictures and drawing strings to connect them.

What the fuck.

“Dude, this looks like a fucking cop board.”

Jensen whirled around, eyes wild and dark. “You have something substantial to contribute? If not, there’s the door.”

“Woah, hey,” Chad raised his hands and slowly stepped inside. “Let’s all take a breath.”

“I’ll take a fucking breath when I know who took a shot at Jared.”

Chad walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. And Jared, he’ll be fine. You know he will.”

Jensen deflated, almost leaned into Chad for a moment. Then he straightened up and his eyes hardened. “It should never have gotten this far. So. Ideas?”

Chad looked at the whiteboard. “Well, we’re missing a few possible suspects.”

Jensen raised the marker like it was a weapon. “Give me their names.”

Chad did. And even though the situation was royally fucked up, Chad found he really liked this side of Jensen. Though he prayed that he’d never get on Jensen’s bad side.


	4. Girls Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani loves to go party with Jensen. This time, she sees something unexpected. Dani POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set about two years into Jensen's assignment, after Family Matters.

Dani loved to party. Most of the time, she loved to party with a bunch of guys and then pick the prettiest one to keep her company. However, whenever she came to Chicago, her priority was hanging out and catching up. She enjoyed partying with the whole crew, but girls’ night out with Jensen and Gen were her favorites. And yeah, okay, Jensen was obviously not a girl, but he drank champagne and rated guys on a hotness scale from one to ten like the rest of them—well, one to nine really, Jared was his only ten— and that was enough.

One of their favorite hangouts was a gay club. Gen and Dani enjoyed not getting hit on and Jensen had perfected a withering stare that scared off any guy who thought about making a move. Jensen was probably the prettiest guy Dani had ever seen, so he had a lot of suitors. But contrary to most straight clubbing men, the gay party crowd was more accepting of a ‘no.’ And Jensen’s glare was truly impressive.

They were in three bottles of champagne between Dani and Jensen—Gen stuck to whiskey—when a tall, cute guy approached the table, smiling at Gen.

“So my brother got to pick the club of choice tonight, and he’s over there, having fun,” he pointed at three guys dancing in the corner without specifying which one his brother was, “and I don’t want to overstep, but you’re just incredibly beautiful and the way you drink that Johnny Walker Blue is an actual art form, so I was wondering if I can buy you another drink?”

Gen raised her eyebrows, but she was smiling when she turned to Dani and Jensen. “Guys?”

“I need to go to the restroom anyway,” Dani said because that was a fairly decent come-on and the guy was exactly Gen’s type. “Jensen? You gonna come with?”

Jensen eyed the guy, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. “Well, I mean, he has terrible taste in shirts and his pickup line could use some work, but his whiskey appreciation does get him some points and he looks harmless enough.”

Dani laughed, Gen slapped Jensen’s arm with fake outrage, and the guy’s mouth fell open.

Jensen shot him a sugar-sweet smile. “Have fun.”

Then he took Dani’s hand and dragged her off to the bathroom.

“Oh my god, his face,” Dani said and didn’t stop laughing until she and Jensen split at the restrooms.

When she was done and stepped back into the dark corridor, Jensen was nowhere in sight. She knew he was quicker than her—she had touched up her lipstick—but she also knew he’d wait for her.

She walked down the corridor and around the bend to where the men’s restrooms were. Jensen was standing here, talking to a guy who had maybe an inch and twenty pounds on him. Dani immediately categorized his size because the way he was looming over Jensen put him in the lower-level threat category. She debated taking off her heels and inflicting some damage on the guy if he didn’t back off, but then the guy moved his hand reaching for Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen’s reaction was immediate.

He caught the guy’s wrist, pushed him around and pulled him into a chokehold. It only took seconds for the guy to tap against Jensen’s arm and Jensen let go, the guy sinking gracelessly to the ground.

Dani didn’t move. One, because clearly Jensen didn’t need any help, and two, because Jensen had just used a standard law enforcement move without even thinking about it.

She knew Jensen was athletic and strong, had great hand-eye coordination and quick reflexes, but she didn’t know he could do that. And she was burning with curiosity about where he’d picked that up. Because usually, that came with years of training, either law enforcement or military.

And if Jensen had been in that line of work and quit, someone would know. Jared would know. It was impossible, how could she even think—Jensen had been with Jared for years, she’d met him long before that, six years ago in a ventilation shaft—as Alec, a tiny voice in her brain pointed out, he’d lied about who he was then and she’d never suspected a thing—but now, they’d known Jensen Campbell for years, that would be—

Jensen leaned down to the guy and said something, probably a warning to keep his hands to himself in the future, and then stood and walked toward Dani. His expression was hard and concentrated, but as soon as he saw her, he smirked.

It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Hey! Sorry to keep you waiting, but these pants are actually as irresistible as you said they’d be and that guy was wasted.”

She looked down at the denim hugging his bowlegs. “They really are,” she said slowly. “But I see you can handle yourself.”

Jensen grinned. “I’ve been this hot my whole adult life. You learn a thing or two.”

She arched an eyebrow and widened her stance for stability. “A standard law enforcement chokehold?”

For a moment, Jensen’s face froze, then he scowled. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you have a law enforcement teacher.”

“What?”

“My mom dated a cop for a while.” He shook his head. “Oh my God, did you really just think I used to be a cop or something?”

She hadn’t, not really. There had just been this one moment… She knew Jensen, she thought she did, but sometimes, there was a hard edge lurking under all the laughter and the flirting and the champagne.

Looking at his outraged face, his pursed lips and raised brows, the dark perfectly cut v-neck he was wearing over his designer jeans and four hundred dollar boots, and yeah, not really. She dragged a hand through her hair, fingers sliding past her earrings. Gold, emerald surrounded by tiny diamonds, Victorian. Jensen had given them to her as a gift, stolen from a safe in Savannah. Stolen on one of his frequent heists. Because he was a thief. God, she was being ridiculous. Her job was really making her paranoid.

Dani laughed, hit Jensen’s shoulder. “Yeah, not really. But I’ve never seen you pull a move like that.”

“That’s because the guys here are usually not this dense. Or this baked.” He gripped her shoulders, whirled her around. “Now, how about we go back and torture Gen’s potential hook up some more?”

Dani smiled and let Jensen push her through the club.


	5. Backseat Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willy drives Mr. Campbell and the boss home. Willy loves his job, most of the time anyway, and with Mr. Campbell, things never get boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ash-autumn on tumblr asked about a situation where Jared is suspicious of Jensen, but also dismisses it. This is the closest I could get. Apologies. I really just wanted to ride along with Willy for a bit.

Willy really loved his job.

It was one of the rare nights where Willy was driving both Mr. Campbell and the boss. It was Friday, and Winston had driven Mr. Padalecki all over town, from meeting to meeting to a construction site visit. Mr. Campbell was no less active, but he generally didn’t leave the house until well after the sun rose. Which fit Willy’s nature very well.

Today, Mr. Campbell hadn’t required a driver except for when he’d gone to town to meet the boss and his crew for dinner. Afterward, they’d gone to the Nine and the boss had sent Winston home, telling him Willy would take over for the rest of the night.

Winston didn’t like it—not because he didn’t trust Willy, but because he was proud of his job and his role in the boss’s life, and Willy, who had similar feelings about Mr. Campbell, understood—but Winston's mother was sick. The boss knew and had made it clear that Winston could take as much time off as he wanted. So far, Winston had declined. Tonight he’d accepted. Which meant that tonight, Willy had the pleasure of driving the boss and Mr. Campbell home.

The boss was, as always, perfectly cool and in control; Mr. Campbell was, also as always, slightly tipsy. So of course, Mr. Campbell needled the boss for a stop at Berry Hat, his favorite frozen yogurt place, and the boss only put up a token of protest. It was the usual late night routine—Winston had made sure to remind Willy of that even though Willy was perfectly aware of Mr. Campbell’s habits—so Willy had already taken the street leading towards Berry Hat before the order had come from the backseat.

Despite his tipsy state, Mr. Campbell noticed. “I love you, Willy,” he said, overly sincere. It had no business warming Willy’s heart as much as it did.

Willy didn’t go inside, but he kept a close eye on the proceedings anyway. Clif and a couple of security guys always followed them in another car, and now they were guarding the exit, but Willy was the driver and he guarded the car and kept it running.

Inside of Berry Hat, Mr. Campbell seemed to have a lengthy conversation with Bruce, the owner. He closed at ten every night, but he also opened the shop just for the boss and Mr. Campbell. In return, the boss tipped generously.

Bruce handed Mr. Campbell a big cup topped with berries and Mr. Campbell actually hugged him. Even from where he was sitting in the car, Willy could see Bruce smile. Well. Mr. Campbell had that effect on people.

The boss herded Mr. Campbell, who still blowing Bruce kisses and talking animatedly, out of the shop. Willy had no doubt he’d hear all about it in a moment. He wasn’t wrong.

“Oh my God, Willy, you won’t believe it,” Mr. Campbell said, as soon as he’d opened the door. “Bruce created a yogurt flavor, just for me!”

“It’s not _just_ for you,” Mr. Padalecki said, laughter in his voice.

Mr. Campbell waved him off. “He created it for my taste, so basically it is just for me,” he said airly. Then he leaned forward, brandishing a tiny spoon, “Raspberry chocolate truffle. Try!”

The spoon was coming closer and Willy could either get frozen yogurt on his face or try this new flavor. It was pretty good.

“He called it 'Late Night Delight.'” Mr. Campbell was grinning broadly.

“Sweetheart, how about you let Willy drive, so we can get home sometime this century?”

Mr. Campbell pouted at the boss. “You’re no fun. Besides, everybody needs to experience Late Night Delight.”

“I’d love to,” the boss said, “as soon as we get home.”

“Oh.” Mr. Campbell laughed. “I see what you did there. Fine.” He sat back. “Drive us home, Willy.”

Willy did.

In the backseat, Mr. Campbell insisted on spoon-feeding the boss. “C’mon, babe, I know you want some Late Night Delight,” he said with wagging eyebrows.

And the boss—who Willy had never seen say no to Mr. Campbell—indulged Mr. Campbell. Of course, it lead to them necking like teenagers, not bothered by the fact that the screen between the front seat and the backseat was down. Willy focused on the road. He didn’t mind the gay thing—wouldn’t be able to do his job if he did—but his momma had raised him not to engage in lewd behavior in public. Willy was aware it was a very old-fashioned sentiment, but it didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t keen on seeing Mr. Campbell and the boss make out in the back seat.

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Campbell finally asked.

“Nothing,” the boss said. “Come back here.”

“Nu-huh. You’ve been distracted half the evening. What’s going on?”

The boss groaned. “Can we not talk about this? There are so many better things we can do.”

Mr. Campbell snorted. “I’d love too, but it’s not a lot of fun when I can hear you thinking about something else. That’s not good for my ego, babe.”

“I’m sure your ego will survive, sweetheart.”

The sound of a hand hitting fabric. Willy chanced a look in the mirror and caught Mr. Campbell sliding away from the boss, glaring at him.

The boss gave him an exasperated look. “Would it be too much to ask that you’re nice and agreeable just once?”

Mr. Campbell’s brows shot up. “Have you met me?”

For a moment, it was quiet.

Willy looked into the mirror and saw the boss leaning back, eyes closed. Mr. Campbell’s expression softened, and he cozied up next to Mr. Padalecki, sliding a hand into his hair and pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. Quickly, Willy focused back on the road.

“Okay. Tell me.”

Rustling and clinking, the scent of alcohol. The boss was pouring whiskey.

“Morgan arrested two more of Wick’s guys. He’s planning something, I know he is. I just don’t know what and it’s driving me fucking nuts.”

Mr. Campbell let out a short laugh. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason they call him Odysseus at Quantico.”

“What?” The boss asked sharply.

Willy looked back. Mr. Campbell seemed entirely unperturbed, face slightly flushed from the alcohol and he waved his hand in his usual expressive fashion. “Odysseus. The great schemer from the Trojan war. Homer and shit.”

“I know who Odysseus is,” the boss ground out with a forced calm that usually preceded a violent eruption. “What I want to know is how you know what people at Quantico call a Deputy Director at the FBI.”

For a moment, Mr. Campbell froze, then he looked down. “You hear things. Morgan is a player.”

“Jensen,” Mr. Padalecki said darkly. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Willy got ready to pull over. The boss sounded like he was just about to lose control and Willy didn’t want that to happen while he was driving. While he couldn’t intervene. He knew the boss could have a short fuse and—well, Willy thought Mr. Campbell should have an opportunity to explain. Willy was sure whatever it was, Mr. Campbell had a good explanation.

“Oh come on, you can’t honestly think that I—what? What are you even thinking here? Do you still think, after all this time—”

“Of course not,” the boss said impatiently. “But right now I don’t know what to think because you’re fucking lying to me. And you know how much I hate that. So. Tell me the truth, Jensen.” The boss’s voice was ice cold. “How do you know Morgan’s Fed nickname?”

Mr. Campbell threw his hands up, whiskey sloshing out of the glass and on the upholstery. “Fine, okay, so I hooked up with an agent once.”

Well. That would do it.

Silence.

Then, “You slept with an _FBI agent_?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know I wasn’t a blushing virgin when I met you.”

“That’s not—I never thought you were—an _FBI agent_ , Jensen, the actual enemy?”

“Yeah, well, even the FBI has hot guys. And you know, it was actually really funny, he was in town to investigate the art theft and he had no idea that I…” Mr. Campbell trailed off.

Willy looked into the mirror. The boss was staring at Mr. Campbell with an expression torn between absolute incredulity and reluctant admiration and Mr. Campbell looked a little sheepish but mostly smug. These two. Willy suppressed a smile.

“You’re unbelievable,” Mr. Padalecki said.

Mr. Campbell leaned into his side, closed his eyes. “I know. If it makes you feel any better, you’re much better in bed.”

“Oh, really?” The boss’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“Well. I’m not a hundred percent sure,” Mr. Campbell said slowly, like he was thinking about it. “You should refresh my memory, just to be safe.”

Another beat of silence.

“Willy, step on it.”

When Willy heard the unmistakable sound of kissing, he did.

Willy really did love his job. Most of the time anyway.


	6. Honor Among Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Kathryn’s first big job and it goes horribly wrong. She gets help from a mysterious stranger who turns out to be Jensen Campbell. He’s just as good as his reputation said he was with a surprising heart of gold. And there’s someone in his circle she’s been dying to meet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic got a little bigger than planned, thank you guys for coming along on all these little snippets <3  
> A round of applause to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for being the most amazing betas!

Kathryn’s lungs were burning.

She was running down the street, the two cops hot on her heels and sirens blaring in the distance. Great. She could already hear Yadira calling her a numbnut when she came to visit her in jail.

Kathryn ran faster, weaving through pedestrians. She just needed to get to an alley, hide in a dumpster, anything. There was a clear stretch of sidewalk and she mustered the last of her strength—and then a dark SUV pulled up, a door opened, and she collided head-on with the tall guy getting out of the car.

She stumbled as she bumped into his solid, broad chest, but large hands gripped her before she fell down.

“Whoa, hey, where’s the fire?”

“There she is! Stop!”

Kathryn looked up, saw a handsome and concerned face, ripped herself out of his grip, and continued running. She risked a look back and saw the cops trying to get around the guy who was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

There was a group of tourists ahead and she burst right into them and then used them as cover to dash to the left into an alley. She gave all she got, rounded the next corner, and dove behind a dumpster.

With a hammering heart, she crouched down between ripped cardboard and unidentifiable trash. She checked her pockets for the stones, still there, fixed her long hair, half of which had come out of her bun and was hanging in her face, and prayed to whoever would listen that the cops wouldn’t find her. St. Dismas was the patron saints of thieves; desperate times and all that.

She tried to gauge how much time passed, but she couldn’t be sure. But it seemed like the cops had walked past.

Slowly, Kathryn got up and made her way down the alley. She could use the alleys to get back closer to her place, but it might be smarter to go out into the mass of pedestrians again, not hide like a thief in dark corners. She clutched the little satchel in her pocket and started walking. When she heard sirens again, she froze. There at the other end of the alley was a cop car. She quickly hurried out of sight. She needed to get out of the alleys. There were a couple of back doors and one of them was surrounded by cigarette stubs littering the ground. She tried the door and it opened. Okay, she would definitely light a candle for St. Dismas.

She carefully made her way through a storeroom into a crammed bookstore. And promptly ran into a tall guy when she rounded the corner. She looked up and had a violent moment of deja vu until she realized it was actually the same guy from the sidewalk. Same piercing green eyes, same model face.

“Shit.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, no kidding. I thought you’d be half-way on your way to Milwaukee by now.”

Kathryn tried for a winning smile. “If you let me go, I will be.”

His face hardened. “I think you should tell me why the cops were chasing you.”

“Just a small misunderstanding.”

With a few quick moves, he’d patted her down and pulled the small satchel out of her jacket pocket before she realized what was going on. What the fuck? This guy was velvety smooth. No way he wasn’t playing for their side.

“That does not look like a misunderstanding.”

Shit. Kathryn could not lose her haul.

“I have a partner,” she said, going for casual threatening. “And if I don’t show up at our meeting point, you’ll be in a world of hurt.”

The guy gave her a condescending look. “Yeah, I doubt that.”

“Hey, Jensen! I just heard back from that antique store in London and they’re willing to ship—oh.” A sales assistant rounded the corner and stared at them with wide eyes.

The guy—Jensen, and why did that name sound familiar?—gave the sales assistant a tight smile. “Excuse us a sec.”

“No!” Kathryn yelled when the sales assistant stepped back. “You’ve got to help me, he’s been harassing me, he’s going to force himself on me!”

The sales assistant snorted. “Honey, you are so not his type. Jensen, whatever your beef is with her, take it to the back room.”

Jensen jerked Kathryn’s arm. “You heard the lady, move.”

“What the fuck?” Kathryn struggled, but Jensen’s grip on her arm was iron tight.

He wrestled her into the storeroom, then let her go. “So, how about we start this again?”

“Why is she just letting you do this? And what does she mean, not your type?” Deflection was always a good tactic to buy time.

“She knows my husband,” Jensen said dryly. “Now, how about you tell me who this big scary partner of yours is?”

Kathryn jutted her chin out. “Adrian Hough.”

Jensen scrunched up his face. “Hough. Hough. Hm, don’t think I ever heard of him.”

Kathryn lunged past him to the back door, but he caught her. “Fuck, let me go, let go!”

He finally did, but not before he was between her and the door again. Something in his face had changed though. His eyes were hard, focused on the ringed bruise around her wrist.

“Your partner?” Jensen asked darkly.

Quickly, Kathryn covered her wrist. “So maybe he’s more like my boss. Either way, he wants the jewels and he’s going to be pissed when I don’t bring them back.”

“At me?” Jensen asked slowly. “Or at you?”

Kathryn flinched, catching herself too late. Never show weakness.

“Fuck.” Jensen dragged a hand across his face. Then he sighed. “Alright, let’s get you out of here. Just... find a new boss.”

So he pitied her. That was a first from another criminal. Well, she didn’t like it, but she could work with that. Just like playing a social worker. “What about the jewels?” she asked, blinking at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t let you take those,” Jensen said.

“Adrian…” She tried to squeeze out a few tears.

Jensen glared at her. “Don’t bother with the fake crying, it doesn’t suit you.”

She stopped and glared back at him.

He snorted, then looked down at her wrist again, and his expression softened. “Why don’t you leave him? You seem scrappy enough to make it on your own.”

It wasn’t like Kathryn had never thought about it. “I can’t leave,” she said. “Not yet.”

He shot her a questioning look. Something in his eyes made her think that he really cared.

“I’m not alone,” Kathryn said, “and I can’t leave without her.”

“Okay.” Jensen huffed out a breath. “Just remember, a boss who treats you like that is a shitty boss.”

“If you give me the jewels, he’s not going to treat me like that,” Kathryn shot back.

Jensen stopped and Kathryn couldn’t keep herself from hoping. But Jensen shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” he muttered under his breath. Instead of giving her back the jewels, he pulled out his wallet and gave her a bunch of twenty-dollar bills. “It’s for a safe place to stay for a couple of days,” he said pointedly as if she was in danger of blowing everything on a trip to the mall. Then he opened the back door.

He stepped outside and she followed. He seemed to hesitate again, and Kathryn held her breath. He pulled out the satchel and took out a handful of the jewels. His brows scrunched up as he examined them and Kathryn was debating whether she could maybe overpower him—he had a good grip, but he didn’t seem to have a weapon—when three guys with weapons rounded the corner.

“Shit!”

Kathryn wanted to run, but Jensen was calmly standing in the middle of the alley. Somehow, he wasn’t afraid of these guys. And if Kathryn ran now, the jewels would be gone. She cursed but stayed where she was. She had no idea who this Jensen guy was, but he had already given her money and not ratted her out, so for some stupid reason she believed he’d protect her again.

The two guys to the left and the right were classic goon material with black boots, and dark, badly fitting suits, while the guy in the middle was dressed in a sharp light gray suit and wearing a pinky ring. His thick, dark hair was slicked back in a McDreamy wave and he was handsome in that rich, smarmy way. He was the guy who’d caught her stealing back at the store, Hal Oszan, one of Chicago’s nastiest diamond smugglers.

“Jensen,” Oszan said, looking between Kathryn and Jensen with narrowed eyes. “You know her?”

Jensen shook his head. “We just met, actually.”

“Interesting coincidence.” Oszan clearly didn’t believe it.

Jensen just shrugged. “Life’s funny that way. What’s it to you, Hal?”

“Well, she just stole something from me.”

“And you sicced the cops on her?” Jensen held up the satchel. “While she was running around with hot stones?”

“The police were kind of unavoidable,” Oszan ground out, “because her bomb blew up half my shop.”

Jensen turned to Kathryn. “You what?”

“Oh yeah,” Oszan said. “Blew out half the wall, destroyed my equipment, and my prettiest sales assistant almost got hit in the face by a flying brick!” By the end, he was shouting. “She quit over the shock!”

Kathryn’s heart sank. Oh no.

Jensen glared at Kathryn. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” Kathryn said desperately. She hadn’t had time to think about the explosion yet. But knowing that someone almost got hurt… “It wasn’t supposed to be so big, okay? I didn’t want to hurt anyone, I swear. Please, tell your sales assistant that I’m sorry.”

“Oh, she’s sorry,” Oszan said derisively. “She blows up my shop, but she’s sorry. Well, that makes it okay.”

“Look, I swear, it was a mistake. I must have done something wrong when I put together the bomb. I’m really sorry.”

The explosion had been way too big, the blast way too strong, but she’d thought she’d done it exactly like Adrian told her, so she had no idea what had gone wrong. But she’d never wanted to hurt anyone.

Oszan waved at his goons. “Not yet, you’re not,” he said to Kathryn.

The goons advanced, but Jensen stepped between them and her. “Not so fast.”

The goons actually stopped. Who _was_ this Jensen guy?

“You can’t be serious,” Oszan said.

“Look, she shouldn’t have done what she did, but she didn’t actually hurt anyone and if your sales assistant quit, the explosion was only the last straw, and we both know it.”

Oszan huffed out a breath.

Jensen gave him a winning smile. “Come on. This is not enough to kill her.”

Kathryn swallowed. Oh god, was Oszan really going to kill her?

“And you know,” Jensen continued, “that you want her boss, not her.” Jensen held up the satchel again. He pulled out the stone he’d inspected before. “Who knew you were in the middle of cutting up a new haul, huh?”

Oszan pursed his lips. “A few people come to mind.”

“How about I give you a name, and you let the little menace here live to maybe learn something. She’s just a kid, Hal.”

Kathryn swallowed down the protest threatening to slip out. She hadn’t been a kid in years. But she also knew when to work her age in her favor.

Oszan’s nostrils flared, but eventually, he nodded.

Kathryn let out the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

“Adrian Hough,” Jensen said.

She stared at Jensen. He was really ratting out Adrian. Oh, God. If Adrian found out, he’d kill her. And Jensen. But if he didn’t, if this Hal took him out, she and Yadira would be free. Finally free.

Oszan’s face contorted in fury. “That fucking asshole!”

Jensen smiled. “There you go. We good now?”

Pointedly, Oszan looked at the satchel. “That belongs to me. And you know that your husband and I have a good business relationship.”

Jensen nodded. “I know.” He threw Oszan the satchel. “Here.”

Oszan weighed the satchel in his hand, then his brows drew together and he inspected its contents. “There’s one missing. The big ruby.”

Jensen smiled. It wasn’t friendly. “Finder’s fee. If you have an issue with that, call Jared. Since you have such a good business relationship with him, I’m sure he’d love to hear how ungrateful you were when his husband was helping you out and just took the cut he was owed for his help.”

Jared. Jared and Jensen. All of a sudden it clicked. There was only one Jared in Chicago powerful enough to inspire fear and respect in diamond smugglers. And he was married to a notorious art thief. Holy shit. Kathryn had run into Jensen Campbell, husband of the king of Chicago himself.

She buried her hands in her jacket pockets and tried not to let her excitement show. If Jensen agreed to help her, she and Yadira would be safe.

She looked back to Oszan, whose face had soured at the suggestion of complaining to Jared Padalecki about a single ruby. He waved at his goons to leave.

Jensen raised an indignant eyebrow.

Oszan made a face, but then inclined his head. “Jensen. I’m indebted to you. Please give my regards to your husband.”

“Will do.” Jensen's smile was very benevolent. “Have a good day.”

“Oh my god, that was awesome,” Kathryn breathed out.

With a glare, Jensen turned to her. “Okay, first off, you’re lucky you’re still breathing. Secondly, what kind of hack bomb did you set off? You could have gotten someone hurt!”

Kathryn hung her head. “I really am sorry. It was supposed to be just a small distraction. Adrian told me how to do it.”

“Thankfully that problem is over now,” Jensen said with a huff. “Call your friend and tell them to get out. Hal is not going to wait to retaliate. And he’s going to be thorough.”

“Thank you,” Kathryn said quietly. “For not letting him have me.”

Jensen made a face. “Yeah, well. You messed up, but you don’t deserve to get fed to a snake.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Jensen’s expression said that he was definitely not kidding.

A snake. Fuck. Kathryn laughed nervously. “Well, that would have sucked.”

“You think?”

“Not that I’m not grateful, and I don’t want to, you know, take advantage of your generosity…”

Jensen raised a sharp eyebrow.

“Just… from one thief to another.”

“One thief to another?” Jensen repeated.

“You’re Jensen,” Kathryn said, trying not to fangirl. “As in master thief married to _the_ Jared Padalecki, Jensen Campbell.”

Jensen looked a little put out. “I’m the master thief, but I’m married to _the_ Jared Padalecki?”

Kathryn’s eyes widened. “I mean. Come on. Padalecki is, like, the biggest player in town. He definitely has more power in my part of town.”

“And you’re bringing him up why exactly?”

Kathryn swallowed and soldiered on. “If my friend has to leave the house now before Oszan shows up, there’s no chance she’s getting our papers or our money. Adrian keeps all of that locked up.”

Jensen looked up to the sky. “Unbelievable.” Then he pinned her with a hard look. “I can help with that. You don’t need Jared.”

Kathryn laughed with relief. But it was kind of adorable how indignant he was.

He pointed a finger at her. “But you stay away from bombs.”

“But bombs are my thing,” Kathryn protested.

“What are you, sixteen? You don’t have _a thing_ at sixteen.”

“I’m almost eighteen,” Kathryn shot back. “And I’m really good with household bombs and stuff; I’m just not good with C4. Which is not my fault, it’s Adrian’s!”

Jensen snorted. “Yeah, you definitely need better teachers.”

“You know someone?” Kathryn was fishing because she _knew_ he knew someone.

Misha Collins was probably the best and definitely the most notorious bomb-maker in Chicago and he was one of Padalecki’s men. A meeting with him would be like hitting the jackpot.

Jensen seemed to think about it for a moment, then shook his head, muttering “bad idea” under his breath.

Well. Kathryn would find a way. She couldn’t run into Jensen Campbell and then not meet Collins. That would be wildly unfair.

“How about we get you some papers instead.” Jensen pulled out a business card. It just had his name on it and a phone number. He fished a pen out of the inside of his jacket and scribbled something on the backside.

“Tell McNally I sent you. Have him make you a full set and put it on my tab.”

Kathryn took the card carefully. She’d heard of Kevin McNally, but she’d never been able to afford his services. He did government-level work. This was more than she could have ever hoped for. But it was nothing without Yadira.

“My friend,” Kathryn swallowed under Jensen’s inquisitive look. “Well, I’m kinda hoping she’ll be my girlfriend soon. Can I get papers for her too?”

Jensen sighed, but his expression softened. Score. She knew he was a softie deep down.

“Fine. But if there are more than two sets on my tab, I’m hunting you down and getting my money back.”

Kathryn beamed at him; she couldn’t help it. “Of course. Thank you. So much.”

“Just don’t get into any more trouble,” Jensen said exasperatedly. “This is a one-time bailout. And don’t blow anything up that you can’t control.”

Kathryn nodded seriously. Her phone buzzed with a message from Yadira. She was asking whether Kathryn was okay and why she hadn’t checked in yet.

“I gotta go,” Kathryn said frantically.

She didn’t want to leave since she wanted to keep talking to Jensen, but she needed to go to Yadira and make sure she was okay and far away from Adrian when Hal Oszan came to take revenge.

She shot Jensen another smile. “Really, thank you so much, but I gotta go.”

Jensen gave her an indulgent smile. Kathryn turned and started down the alley when he called her name.

She turned back and something came flying through the air at her. She caught it reflexively. It was the red ruby. She started at Jensen.

“Don’t spend it all in one place,” he said. “And remember, you put a toe across the line and pull a stunt like today, and I’ll personally make sure you get what’s coming to you.”

Kathryn had never thought she’d be so grateful for a death threat.

“Thank you,” she said fervently, but Jensen was waving her off and going back into the bookstore.

Kathryn jogged down the alley. Yadira would never believe what just happened. Well. Kathryn buried the ruby deep in her pants pocket. She did have proof.

**Epilogue: Consequences**

Kathryn was wearing the one good dress she owned.

Yadira had given her a call. One month ago, after Hal Ozsan had laid waste to Adrian’s place and his life, Kathryn and Yadira had gotten new papers. Yadira had sat Kathryn down and forced her to tell her what the hell she was thinking. And Kathryn had told her everything. That she wanted to become a better bomb maker, a better thief. That she’d been in love with Yadira for months and wanted nothing more than to ask her out on a date. Yadira had rolled her eyes, told her that she’d be a great thief and that she should have said something months ago, and kissed her. And that had been that.

And then they’d made a plan. With her new papers that made her twenty-one, Yadira had gotten a job at the Nine. And tonight was the first night Misha Collins was here and Jensen wasn’t. Kathryn had decided to do this when Jensen wasn’t around because she didn’t know how he’d react. He’d probably throw her out though and Kathryn couldn’t risk it. Misha Collins was her shot to becoming what she wanted. And tonight, he was finally here without Jensen. So Kathryn put on her party dress and Yadira smuggled her inside. Her ID made her twenty-one as well, but she didn't have the twenty-five dollars to spare for the door fee. They were living on a tight budget.

Inside, Yadira gave her a shot for courage, and then Kathryn smoothed out her dress and danced her way across the dance floor. There was a group of women, walking much more confidently than Kathryn in their five-inch heels, and they were heading right for Padalecki’s booth. Most of them were older than her, but she’d heard that Padalecki’s crew didn’t do jailbait.

So she made sure to stay under the radar, plopping down directly next to Collins instead. “Hi.”

He looked far less menacing than his reputation would suggest. He had a kind face with surprisingly soft, pink lips and clear blue eyes.

He gave her an assessing look. “You’re too young to be here.”

“Am not.”

“Fine. But I’m not the one you want.” He pointed at Murray and Rosenbaum, who were clinking glasses with the other women. “You should join your friends over there.”

“They’re not my friends. And I don’t want what they want.”

Collins’ piercing blue eyes turned wary. “What is it that you want?”

“I want to learn how to build a good bomb.” Kathryn gave him a winning smile. “Jensen said you’d be a great teacher.”

“Jensen,” Collins repeated, his expression not giving anything away.

Kathryn had kept his card and she carefully pulled it out of her tiny purse. She prayed that Jensen hadn’t told Collins about her.

Collins looked at the card for what seemed like an eternity, then he smiled indulgently. “Ah, Jensen. Well, tell me your name then.”

“Kathryn. Kathryn Newton.”

“And why do you want to learn how to build a good bomb, Kathryn?”

“Because it’s going to help make me a great thief.”

Collins kept watching her. “You want to become a great thief and you didn’t ask Jensen to teach you?”

It hadn’t even occurred to Kathryn. “I don’t want to steal like that.”

“Then what do you want to steal like?”

“I want to get things behind walls. I want to get in anywhere I want.” Collins’ blue eyes were gleaming. Kathryn drew in a deep breath. “I want to learn how to blow things up.”

Collins stretched out his hand.

She took it.

“Call me Misha.”

Kathryn smiled stupidly.

Misha stood, pulled her up.

For the first time, fear snuck in. “Where are we going?”

“You want to learn, don’t you?” Misha asked. “Lesson number one: where to get the right supplies. And one of the best suppliers in Chicago has business hours right now. No time like the present.”

“Oh.” Kathryn let out a sigh of relief.

Misha gave her a reproachful look. “You are way too young for me. Besides, I am in a committed, monogamous relationship.”

Then he dragged her out of the booth.

“Whoa, what the—Wait, Misha! What the fuck—” Kathryn heard Murray shout behind her, but Misha was already leading her toward the back door.

“The fire waits for no man, my friend!” Misha shouted over his shoulder. “Or woman,” he added with a smile.

Kathryn turned to the bar and had time to raise her arm and flash Yadira a thumbs-up before they walked out through the back, and into the bustling Chicago night.

Kathryn was smiling the entire time. And later, when Misha showed her how to measure and test the quality of good C4 and Kathryn set off her first mini-explosion, Misha smiled right along with her.

Five months later, she went to the Nine again. She had a new dress this time, Yadira was by her side instead of working the bar, and they came in with Misha. They made their way up to Mr. Padalecki’s booth. He was holding court in the middle of the booth in a sharp, dark gray suit, Jensen next to him in a navy blue blazer and a light shirt. They looked more like a model couple than the rulers of Chicago’s underworld.

While Mr. Padalecki was talking to Murray, Jensen stared at Kathryn incredulously.

Kathryn squared her shoulders and Yadira squeezed her hand. They hoped that Jensen would forgive Kathryn for going behind his back now that Misha had taken her under his wing.

“What are you doing here?” Jensen asked when they were in the booth.

“Jensen!” Misha said brightly. “You remember Kathryn, right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen said, blinking irritatedly. “Yeah, I do.”

“You sent her to me to learn.”

Jensen shook his head. “I most certainly did not.”

Misha grinned. “She’s my protege now. And I have to say, she’s really talented.”

Slowly, Jensen closed his eyes. “Oh, God.”

“Sweetheart.” Mr. Padalecki turned to Jensen. “You okay?”

But Jensen just waved him off. “Where’s the booze? I need more booze.”

Kathryn barely managed to suppress a victorious smile. She stepped before him, Yadira next to her. “Jensen, this is Yadira. My girlfriend,” she added, waggling her eyebrows.

Jensen sighed, but he gave Yadira a reluctant smile. “Your girlfriend is a menace. But I’m very glad you two are okay.”

Yadira smiled. “Thank you. And well, I guess you would know what it’s like dating a menace.”

For a moment, Kathryn couldn’t breathe. She’d _told_ Yadira what a big deal this was, and that they couldn’t embarrass themselves in front of Padalecki. Or piss him off. And now she was trying to tease him. But then Mr. Padalecki just grinned.

“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong.” He put an arm around Jensen. “Out of the two of us, he’s definitely the menace.”

“Hey!” Jensen shot him an indignant look, but Mr. Padalecki just ignored it. “Kathryn, good to see you again. Yadira, nice to meet you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Padalecki,” Kathryn said.

“Misha told me that the last job was yours alone.” He raised his glass. “Very impressive. Call me Jared.”

Kathryn just barely managed not to gape. Thankfully Yadira had always had more composure than her, and she filled two empty champagne glasses so they could clink their classes with Mr. Pada—with Jared.

“Unbelievable,” Jensen said when he tapped his glass against hers, but Kathryn was pretty sure she could hear something like reluctant respect in his voice.

With Yadira at her side, she sat down next to Misha. She was sitting next to her mentor, who was the best in their field, in the booth of the most powerful man of Chicago and he’d just offered her to call him by his first name. Kathryn couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

They’d made it.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come find me on tumblr [here](http://ashtraythief.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [here.](https://twitter.com/ashtraythief) My ask box is always open.


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